


Midnight Blue

by MohnblumenKind



Series: Berliner Blau [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1850s, Angst, Brothers, Gen, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, POV First Person, Sibling Bonding, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27081925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MohnblumenKind/pseuds/MohnblumenKind
Summary: Fear rose in my chest. I actually didn’t know what Prussia was capable of. I dreaded his next words, and at the same time hoped he would finally address the conversation I had witnessed. Prussia’s next words hung in the midnight blue sky like clouds on a windless day: Light and eerie.In 1850, the little German nation tries to come to terms with his lost revolution and he witnesses a conversation between the Prussian king and his nation – which leads to a crucial conversation.
Relationships: Germany & Prussia (Hetalia)
Series: Berliner Blau [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1290959
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Midnight Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Historic reference at the end of the fic.  
>   
> And thanks to my beta [Slovenskych](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4204901/)! (now on AO3, [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slovenskych).)

Berlin Palace 1850

With soft steps, I scampered through the palace in Berlin. I hadn’t been here for a few years but I remembered every dusty corner of the place I spend most of my life in. It seemed like the old palace resented my return: The ancient stone floors betrayed me with the echo of my footsteps throughout the high hallways, and the decorated windows draped with heavy, dusty curtains seemed like blind, eyeless holes through which the evening light seeped. I felt small in the giant rooms, like Tom Thumb in the mouse-hole, tiptoeing around in a place that felt eerily familiar and yet so alien. These palaces were made for kings and pompous humans, not for defeated nations the size of a boy.  
  
I was looking for my brother, the latest publication of the _Children's and Household Tales_ by the Brothers Grimm in my hand. It was the sixth edition and a few fairy tales had been added, circling the thought of greed and the true heir or heiress of the crown. I wanted to show them to my brother, questioning their metaphors and analyzing their meanings, but Prussia had been absent the whole day. Some important meeting here, a conversation with foreign diplomats there, next a conference with Prussian generals, followed by an audience with the king. So I made my way through the barren hallways towards the chambers of the Prussian king Friedrich Wilhelm. Palaces tended to separate distinctive rooms for different purposes, and Prussia’s conversation with the king would most likely be private. Therefore, I used the small, creaky staircases the maidens usually used to skip unseen from one hallway to the next to get to the king’s private quarters.  
  
I hadn’t taken a lantern with me, and the fading light left the distant corners of the rooms in darkness. The bustle of the day had been withdrawn into certain areas of the palace: The kitchen, the servants’ quarters, the maidens’ washrooms, or the noblemens’ saloon. From these places, light and laughter glowed like candles in the upcoming evening darkness.  
  
Finally, I reached the king’s private quarters. Beneath the door, light seeped across the floor, competing with the sparse light of the windows. Voices oozed through the wooden doors, soaking the darkened room beyond with whispers. I halted and concentrated on the voices, desperately trying to calm my breathing and my beating heart to understand them. I recognized Prussia – I was not able to decipher his words, but the vehement sound of his voice made it easy to identify him. With him – louder and more agitated – was the Prussian king.  
  
“He should have asked the authorities first before engaging in any kind of political activism. He would have, if he had an ounce of justice or a grain of faith or loyalty – “ Steps were heard and the voice became quieter, the words blurred into each other. Then, louder, angrily: “He’s making me a fool, a bond-servant of his absurd and doltish revolution!”  
  
I heard Prussia answer something in a quiet tone, probably in a soothing manner but the doors kept his words as their secret.  
  
“No, Prussia, that’s not travesty! The disloyalty, the utter perjury, the infamy tore my heart.”  
  
“He’ll change!” Prussia uttered, now more clearly, then, quicker: “He changed. He’s a good child.”  
  
“And I have taken this bastard in, I did not falter when you voiced your request. But even an honest name doesn’t change the fact that he’s an abominable bastard of devil and humankind. I knew it from the beginning – he’s garbage in front of God’s grace.”  
  
“You can’t say that. He’s a child. He’s like me!” There was an edge in Prussia’s tone.  
  
“No, he’s not. He might be of your kind, but he’s a disloyal bastard. My Prussia is loyal to the black and white flag of the king! There will be no more democrats and republicans, just loyal soldiers – or I have to emerge as a marshal to regain order and discipline.”  
  
“And that’s your solution?”  
  
“No, Germany is your responsibility… Kill it, before it festers.”  
  
The sound of broken glass scattered the following silence and long, quick steps were heard, barely concealed by the thick carpet. I realized too late that the light beneath the door shifted, indicating a person coming closer. I clutched the book and took a couple of steps back, wishing the shadows of the velvet curtains would swallow me – but the palace had already decided to punish me for my absence during the last years – and when the door opened, the shadows fled and the cone of light illuminated me.  
  
The door was jerked open and out marched Prussia, his long strides made with a purpose. I knew him well enough that there was an unmistakable air of aggression and fury around him, only conveyed by the way he moved. His eyes inevitably locked with mine, since I stood in the now illuminated, but otherwise empty hallway. With a loud slam, the door fell shut behind him, canceling the light.  
  
There was no movement besides in his face. The sparse light showed surprise, then shock before it softened into something close to pity. But it could just have been the shadows playing a trick.  
  
I felt tears rising into my eyes and hoped that at least the darkness would have mercy on me. When Prussia didn’t say a word, I uttered: “Well, then do what’s best for your king.”  
  
I didn’t know what I expected to happen, but Prussia huffed angrily, threw his hands in the air, and left without a word into the vastness of the palace.

  


* * *

  


I sat on a bench in the palace garden. The book lay on my lap, its pages closed, the contents hidden. Even if I had been able to concentrate enough to read, the stories would have maintained their secrets, because the sky had darkened considerably. Dusk covered the world and painted the sky increasingly in dark shades of blue. A few clouds stretched over it, catching the last light of the day. The twilight sun made them glow golden and cherry red. Even after the night fell, I didn’t move from my spot. I twiddled with my sleeves to the point of ripping off strands of yarns, replaying the conversation I had witnessed over and over in my head.  
  
Suddenly, a light danced through the darkness, coming closer from the shadows of the servants’ entrance to the palace. Before I could make out the person’s face, I recognized their movement. Those long strides belonged to my brother.  
  
Prussia must have spotted me because he came directly towards the bench. He stood there for a moment as if to contemplate the next action, before placing the lamp on the ground and sitting down next to me.  
  
“It’s getting quite dark outside,” was all he said after a while. He was not looking at me.  
  
“At least _he_ won’t find me,” I answered defiantly. It was quite clear that I meant the king. My brother wouldn’t be able to pretend I hadn’t heard what they had talked about. Prussia shifted his position but was quiet for a moment.  
  
“Friedrich Wilhelm… my king… he’s… I guess he’s not in favor of you.”  
  
That was the worst understatement I had heard in my entire life – and nearly fifty years had supplied their fair amount of occasions. The sound I made was not a snort and neither a whine, but an almost voiceless gasp that resulted in Prussia sharply turning towards me, his red eyes narrow, gleaming in the sparse light.  
  
Fear rose in my chest. I actually didn’t know what Prussia was capable of. I dreaded his next words, and at the same time hoped he would finally address the conversation I had witnessed.  
  
“I’m not going to kill you. I… I promised to protect you. And I will.”  
  
Prussia’s words hung in the midnight blue sky like clouds on a windless day: Light and eerie.  
  
“The king… he doesn’t understand us. _Humans_ don’t understand us, what we are, _who_ we are. For them death is normal, but for nations, it’s not normal to die or to be born. It’s a singularity in the universe. A cosmic happening, a miracle.”  
  
Prussia looked up to the sky and I followed his gaze. The first stars had appeared. I remembered books about the sudden birth and death of stars, about other planets and the galaxy. The universe was a miracle and the life of a star a mystery.  
  
“But you have to understand that you can’t run around and side with foreign nations,” Prussia added, his words anchored in reality. A reality with which I would have to live with.  
  
“France is insane! And if Baden acts like a foreign aggressor, he’s treated as such. He has way too much mouth for his lack of mussels.”  
  
At his words, I had the sudden urge to smile. I remembered Baden cursing and using fancy insults to describe Prussia.  
  
“He doesn’t like you either.” I didn’t know why I said it. It was not small-talk and neither a compliment. I hesitated, asking myself whether I should add something – anything – to it. Prussia laughed.  
  
“Yeah, I suppose. You’re not obligated to like your family just because they happen to be blood relatives,” Prussia said when the laughter had died in his voice. He leaned back on the bench and kicked the dirt with his feet.  
  
Then he added, softer and almost peacefully: “Just for the record, I don’t agree with what you heard Friedrich Wilhelm say. And I’m going to change his opinion with time. If there’s something we nations have plenty of, then it’s time. Humans don’t.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“What do you want me to do?” I asked into the night.  
  
“Promise me you’re not going to run away again. That’s the only way I can protect you.”  
  
I turned to look at him, but his gaze was directed straight ahead, his jaw clenched.  
  
“I promise.”  
  
My fingers rubbed over the cover of the book on my lap, twiddling with the pages. My brother must have noticed the movement because he turned and nodded at the book.  
  
“A new edition?”  
  
“Yes, there are a few new fairy tales. Two of them are about soldiers. You’ll like them.” The soldiers in Grimms’ stories were always loyal, outsmarting bandits, and withstanding the devil to be rewarded by their king.  
  
Prussia laughed softly.  
  
“And what’s your favorite fairy tale?” I thought about Tom Thumb and the giant hallways of Prussia’s palace. Then I opened the book on the last page. _The golden key_ was written in ornamented lettering above a short text. And Prussia picked up the lantern and began to read out loud the story of a boy that found a golden key and an iron box that held unknown mysteries.

**Author's Note:**

> This belongs to chapter 9 of my fic [Blue Cornflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8274742/chapters/40269044#workskin) and explains West’s and Prussia’s reconciliation. But it’s fine on its own.  
>   
> The title is inspired by Lou Gramm and his song “Midnight Blue” with the line “It’s either cherry red or midnight blue”. But it has nothing to do with the content.  
>   
> Tom Thumb is called “Däumling” or “Daumesdick” in German which would be translated to “Thumbling”, but since this story is in English, I thought I’ll use the equivalent. These stories are actually not related, to be historically correct.  
>   
> Prussia mentioned France and Baden because France started various revolutions and inspired little Germany to do the same in 1848. When Prussian military tried to shut down the revolution, Baden stood up for Germany. Therefore, both symbolize the democrats and republicans that endanger Prussia’s beloved monarchy.  
>   
> The story takes place in 1850 when the sixth edition of Grimms’ fairy tales was published. Just a year ago, the German revolution was brutally put down, and hence, the relationship between the brothers is slightly damaged. Germany had apologized, nonetheless, they needed this scene to heal.  
>   
> Here’s the German version of the fairy tale Prussia is reading: [Der goldene Schlüssel](https://de.wikisource.org/wiki/Der_goldene_Schl%C3%BCssel_\(1850\)).  
>   
> What king Friedrich Wilhelm IV. says here are more or less translated and adapted quotes from his private letters to the Prussian diplomat Bunsen in 1849. I knew some of these letters beforehand and they already shaped my character portrayal of Prussia during this time. But the letter I used here was new to me and its harsh words (literally calling Germany as a personification a bastard of a human and the devil) were very… inspiring. The Prussian king must have shared his opinion with his nation, and so this story developed.


End file.
